


The Persian Monkey

by Mazen



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Phantom - Susan Kay, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Erik isn't racist, Just an idiot, M/M, The monkey music box, tw: mention of racism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:49:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27226825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mazen/pseuds/Mazen
Summary: We finally learn where the inspiration for the monkey music box came from.
Relationships: Erik | Phantom of the Opera/Nadir Khan, Erik | Phantom of the Opera/The Persian
Comments: 16
Kudos: 28





	The Persian Monkey

**Author's Note:**

  * For [helloitskrisha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloitskrisha/gifts).



> Written for a prompt from the lovely Krisha. Happy birthday!

Nadir didn't get there until it was too late. The mob had already ransacked Erik's house, leaving nothing but shattered remains of the Opera Ghost's belongings.

And their owner? Nowhere to be seen.

He should not have left Erik alone. But he had been so frustrated by the Opera Ghost’s shenanigans, harmless as they were back then. When Erik had declared that he’d become a hermit beneath the opera and never interact with another human, Nadir had known not to believe it, but harassing a whole opera company was taking things too far.

Erik’s idle hands were indeed the devil’s playthings.

There had been a fight when it became clear that he’d been deceiving a young, naive woman by pretending to be an angel. He had insisted that his intentions were pure and that the woman would never know the truth as she rose to stardom, but Nadir knew otherwise. Erik wanted the attention and Nadir’s had never been enough.

Going back to Persia to visit with his brother and his family had been an awful mistake, but he’d been so angry - and hurt - when Erik had called him a great oaf and declared that he wished Nadir had never saved his life when there was nothing to live for. Their friendship meant little to Erik.

He’d tried to keep up with news from Paris, but it was near impossible to attain newspapers from European countries. Then he was contacted by a Madame A. Giry, a ballet mistress and box keeper Nadir had met a few times - who Erik had even accused him of courting! Mmd Giry apparently knew about Erik being the Phantom of the Opera and his affiliation with Nadir. She begged him to return to Paris, explaining how Erik had already kidnapped the young soprano and crashed a chandelier into the audience.

Nadir had left for Paris that very day. However, the journey had been long and now he had arrived too late. 

Had the mob taken Erik? Strung him up or beaten him to death? No, the man was too clever for that and born with a stubborn survival instinct that had kept him alive through situations where the strongest men would have died.

He must have gone into hiding and it was Nadir’s job to find him. Again. 

Nadir pushed the broken bench by the organ aside, grabbed a half burned pillow that had survived colliding with a candelabra and lay down behind the organ - the only place there wasn’t a draft in this lair, this hole. Erik had always kept his music sheets safe. Until now where they were scattered across the room.  
Nadir was exhausted after the long journey, after worrying about Erik every step of the way. How many times would they continue this dance, Nadir following Erik and fixing his messes? How many silent, longing stares and words unspoken between them?

Nadir didn’t dare to be the first to address the feelings between them. He was afraid to be mocked. Or have his darkest dream come true: to fall completely under Erik’s spell.

He jerked awake, having fallen asleep on the hard stone floor behind the organ, to a familiar, velvety voice saying his name. "Ah Nadir, have they gotten to you as well?" The soft tone in Erik’s voice as he spoke his name filled Nadir with a sublime warmth in his chest.

Until he rose and realized that Erik was speaking to a monkey doll wearing a Persian rope on top of a music box, lying by his throne.

The infamous Opera Ghost’s clothes were dirty and torn; it was a state he allowed very few people to see him in. Not that he was aware of Nadir’s presence, but it wasn’t the first time he’d seen Erik like this or worse. How many times had he bathed Erik and treated his wounds after he’d dragged the poor man from the little Sultana’s chambers after one of her ‘games’? 

At least Erik appeared to be physically unscattered. But Nadir recognized the desolate expression he wore as he cradled the monkey, singing softly along to the tune its little music box played. He hadn’t even noticed Nadir yet; it was unlike him to be so heedless of his surroundings.

The pitiful sight of the tall, proud man crumbled on the floor with a music box was too painful to watch. Nadir decided to reveal himself. “So, you named a monkey after me?” he spoke casually. "Is this a crude comment on the color of my skin?"

If Erik was surprised by his friend suddenly appearing, he showed no sign of it. With an elegance no human should be able to have, he rose from the floor, looking surprisingly dignified compared to the broken man he’d been a moment ago. "You of all people should know that I don't mock appearances. Making you a monkey was a mockery of your personality, not your physical traits."

Nadir believed him to a certain degree. While Erik doubtlessly didn’t care what color a person’s skin was, he did admire beauty and often mocked ugly things, although usually the ones that resembled himself. 

Nonetheless, the interesting thing about the music box wasn’t the monkey itself, but the fact that Erik had named it Nadir. He rarely called him anything but ‘Daroga’ (though ‘great booby’ did have a close second place), yet this monkey bore his true name. 

Erik appeared to take Nadir’s lack of reply as disappointment. "Come on, Daroga, I gave this monkey something you never had: a sense of musicality.” he joked, always so unsure what to say, even to his oldest friend.

“I should not have left you. I apologize, my friend.” Nadir approached him, but stopped when he drew back. The monkey music box stayed cradled in his arms.

“I’ve been fine without you,” Erik said nonchalantly and lifted his chin a little. Nadir huffed in amusement and gestured to the trashed furniture around them to illustrate his point. “Oh, things would’ve gone much worse, had you interfered, Daroga. I may have gotten carried away, but all things considering-”

“Two men are dead, Erik!” he interrupted, unable to listen to these excuses. “I cannot stress how disappointed I am in you! And all for a little choir girl-”

“Her name is Christine and she is so much more than that,” Erik’s voice boomed through the stone house, making Nadir shiver. He knew the magnificence of that voice, yet it always surprised him. “She is the love of my life and now she is gone.” An air of defeat colored the last of his words and soon the expression of his bare face followed. That man was so broken.

“Oh Erik,” this time Nadir walked up to him and placed a careful hand on his shoulder, ignoring the flinch from him as they touched for the first time in many months. Despite everything, Nadir had missed his dearest friend. “You always pick the ones who will hurt you the most. There are plenty who would adore you as you are. If only you would-”

“Plenty?” Erik laughed mirthlessly. “The Persian heat really did a number on you, Daroga. No one has ever stayed after seeing this face. Except the Khanum who got a kick out of the horror it could bring out in others. No one else has been able to look at me without flinching with every glance of my abhorrent face.”

“What about me? I’m looking at you this very moment, Erik, and I feel no disgust, no fear.”

“Immense simpleton, you do not count! You have, after all, seen the very rot of my soul which just barely outmatches my ghastly features. And it isn’t as though you have to touch this abomination like a potential lover would have to.” 

Without hesitation, frustrated by Erik’s lack of acknowledgement that Nadir truly did not fear his deformity, he grabbed Erik’s face and cradled it in his hands. The monkey before held in spindly, skilled hands fell to the floor between them and he took the opportunity to close the distance between their bodies. “There’s nothing about your appearance that repulses me. If you had half a mind to open your damn eyes, you would have known this long ago.”

Erik stood frozen as Nadir held the face that had cursed him from the moment he was born. If only he’d had a decent mother like most children, he could’ve lived a fairly normal life. Nevertheless, it would’ve meant that the two hadn’t crossed paths and that was one thing Nadir could never regret. 

It had been years since they’d stood so close and Nadir felt it as though a drought had ended. Erik’s proximity was intoxicating and he would treasure every second of it until his hands unavoidably would be ripped from the textured face beneath them.

But to his surprise, Erik didn’t try to move away. Their eyes stayed on one another's, Erik’s fierce expression suddenly more intense and knowing. The man had experienced something new while Nadir had been away, something that kept him from withdrawing from the intimate situation. 

The words struck him like a lightning bolt when Erik finally spoke: “And if I asked for a kiss?” he whispered, their eyes still locked. “That would surely sicken you.”

The reluctance to give into his instincts evaporated into thin air. “Oh Erik, you truly do not know anything at all!” he breathed before pulling those bloated lips down to meet his own, fulfilling a years long wish to feel them. 

He thought he only had a few seconds before Erik would push him away, but he was so very wrong. Erik only hesitated a moment before he responded to the kiss with a passion Nadir had only dreamed of. Those swollen lips moved against his and when he dared to lick along the uneven lower lip, the lips parted and allowed his tongue to deepen the kiss.

Like in all other things, Erik was a quick study and soon, he was leading the kiss with an expertise that made Nadir’s knees weak. He moaned into the mouth that had become the center of his world and Erik swallowed the sound greedily with a growl.

Too soon, they parted to breathe. Both of them were older men who, even with a good physique, didn’t have the lung capacity like 20 years ago. But none of them pulled away and neither did Nadir’s hands on Erik, although they had strayed from their original position; one had found its way into the thin hairs on Erik’s neck while the other held his deformity lovingly.

“You’ve kissed before,” Nadir remarked surprised, only feeling a slight sting of jealousy. It was a new development and he didn’t need to hear the name of the soprano to know who had done it.

“It was a kiss of goodbye.” Erik murmured with uncertainty, his eyes falling to Nadir’s lips once more. 

He smiled at the sensitive genius before him who had never understood how loved he had been for years. “Well, this kiss is just the beginning,” Nadir said before claiming the lips of his beloved once more.


End file.
